Michael
by Serendipitous-Slug
Summary: At 17 Michael doesn't know what he wants. Uhm... I'm bad at summaries and this is my first fan-fiction so don't crucify me please! :"
1. Chapter 1

Walking up the stone steps to the theater Michael was suddenly aware of the ruckus his heart was making in his chest. It had been at least four years since they had last seen each other and all he could remember was their goodbye. That kiss on the cheek and the tears that had come after. Of course he had been young then, and what did that matter when they 17 now. But there were those letters over the years, it didn't seem like anything changed. Billy was still that same goofy, brave kid. And Michael was…well he didn't know what he was in more than one way.

When he reached the shining double doors he stopped taking a deep breath. After adjusting his worn and patched "Sunday best" and glaring at his scuffed shoes he walked through. Immediately he was engulfed in to a crowded room full of people dressed in suits and gowns. Feeling horribly under dressed Michael made his way into an empty corner. From there he could get the full picture of the room. Along the walls were framed posters of the Royal Ballet School, most picturing Billy. It was then that Michael realized this was really the first time he had seen how Billy looked after all these years. His dirty blonde hair was longer now, and he was taller, more filled out. His arms especially, from lifting all the ballerinas Michael guessed. Michael looked into his reflection of a nearby window. His own arms were thin, matching the rest of his lanky body. Plain black hair and brown eyes stared back at him. Michael looked around the room again and couldn't help but feel inferior. He was just from a little miner's town; these people were most likely all from London. Before his embarrassment and jealously could grow, the lights flickered signaling for the people to file into the theater. Trying not to bump into the growing crowd, Michael made his way to the usher taking tickets who gave him a look suggesting he didn't belong there.


	2. Chapter 2

As Michael entered the theater he felt his nerves leave him, too distracted by the beauty of the theater. Rows and rows of plush purple chairs sat like thrones. Above, several balconies with matching purple curtains sat women in fur coats smoking imported cigarettes. He gazed above the smoke cloud to the crisp white marble ceiling. It was carved in intricate designs, swirling into the center where a large crystal chandelier hung. Michael had never seen anything more beautiful in his life and he stood there looking at until the usher said, "Move 'er along now." poking him in the back with a flashlight. Michael ripped his eyes away from the chandelier and found his seat. It was a tight fit, between a large man and an even larger woman, and it was towards the back of the theater. Michael smiled thinking back to Billy's letter,

"I'm sorry I can't get you a better seat or nuffing but, me' Da' and Tony came last performance and well, the theater people are a bunch of stingy snobs, aren't they?"

The lights blinked a few times and then, slowly dimmed until only soft light came from the crystal chandelier. A hush swept across the packed theater and once it was completely quiet, music began. Michael watched the conductor, at first mistaking him for a dancer. Once he realized that the orchestra was concealed in a sort of dug out, the velvet curtains opened.

The stage was done up as if it were a forest, a ballerina in a crisp white tutu (that Michael envied) stood on her toes center stage. She then began to shuffle, other ballerinas in pink fluttered out from behind bushes and trees and danced along with the ballerina in white. Michael tried to follow the story line but after a while found himself lost. Instead of trying to understand, he watched avidly at the fluid motions each girl made.

Suddenly, the music went from soft violins to booming drums and deep basses as a figure in black crept from behind a tree and pounced on the white ballerina. He picked her up, flung her over his shoulder; she balanced and then fell, only to be caught up by him again. They danced in this same pattern, the man in black trying to embrace the ballerina and her failing to escape. As Michael watched, it seemed to be that time had passed, but the while ballerina was still captive. Hisses from the crowd sounded when the man in black slapped the white ballerina across the face and she fell, strewn across a rock, her shoulders shaking with tears. The man in black stalked off the stage to be replaced with sad and slow music. The white ballerina peeled herself from the rock, dancing along to the melancholy melody. She was so distracted, twirling and leaping, that she didn't notice another man, also dressed in white, walking on stage. He watched her and then began to dance behind her. When she turned around to see him she tried to run but he grasped her wrist. They began danced together, the music altering to include violas and flutes, building up. The two, now lovers, ran from each other, only to turn back. The white ballerina leaped into his arms and he raised her above his head as the music exploded and the crowd erupted. The man put the ballerina down and they both bowed.

When they came up, Michael squinted and gasped.

Billy.


End file.
